The footsteps outside had gone silent. It was pitch dark in her hiding place but she could imagine him so solidly, standing outside the door starring straight at her, it didn't matter much.
Sinister, blackish-brown eyes. Sharp features like he had been shisseled from granite. A voice as harsh as an Arctic winter or a summer desert, and a mop of greasy black hair. He couldn't have been more terrifying if he tried, and Elizabeth had an awful feeling that he just might have been. It made him happy to see people suffer.
The ancienty door knob began to turn, and she knew it was all over. How many times would he stab her? Would it be slow like Jessica? Was there someone watching from another hiding place like she had been, but just too terrified to help?
The door began to open, and a sliver of blinding light shone through.
She jumped up and screamed, her eyes tightly closed. She heard a door slam open. This is it.
"Elizabeth!" her father yelled. She opened her eyes, tears already falling. She was in her bed, her father by her side, and she was covered in a cold sweat. The blanket was thrown off of her and lay in a heep on the hardwood floors.
She was shaking so hard, she didn't want to reply because she didn't trust her voice. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?" her father asked again. He'd expected to come in hear and see her window shattered, a man standing in her room. But everything but his pride and joy seemed to be completely as it should have been.
"I - I'm fine." she whispered, the gruesome images flashing before her eyes. That couldn't have just been a dream. she thought. It was... it was too real. And surely I couldn't make that up.
She looked up at her father, he seemed like he was still half alseep. "I am. Really." she said again, much more firm. "Just a bad dream."
He looked around the room before he looked back at her. "Do you want me to -"
"No." Elizabeth said before he could finish. He was going to ask if she wanted him to keep the hall light on. She had always been afraid of the dark. She was far too old, she knew, but you're affraid of what you're affraid of and there's nothing anyone can do about that.
He smiled a little, then told her goodnight and to apologize to all the dead people she just woke up before walking out of her room. She smiled, he wasn't always the best timed or most appropriet comedian, but he never seemed to stop.
She passed the whole thing off. If she hadn't she never would have gone back to sleep that night. But as hard as she tried that night, and for the next few days to come, she couldn't forget it.